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Message: <blockquote data-quote="The Shaman" data-source="post: 2708865" data-attributes="member: 26473">Marcel...[sblock]A slight smile plays over the doctor’s thin lips as he listens to Marcel. “Soon I’m going to be an old man,” he replies thoughtfully, “and I’m not as passionate as I once was. I’ve seen too many men die much too young,” he continues, “young men much like yourself, and the memory of it is painful. It colors my view of the world.”He pauses as he resets Babaye’s ribcage, with Marcel’s help. “The Arabs want independence, but they’re years away from being able to manage the country without the French – they simply haven’t the capacity for it now. The Europeans, like our dear mayor out there, refuse to accept that the Arabs will breed them out of existence in Algeria, and instead of looking for a compromise, they expect the army to hold the country for them by force.”Dr. Bruzzi looks over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses at Marcel. “Eventually the barbarians overcame Rome. And it was followed by a darkness that lasted centuries.”He hands Marcel a needle and a length of delicate silk and shows him where to begin suturing to close the incision in the Senegalese legionnaire’s chest. After watching the medic’s technique for a few moments, the physician moves to Babaye’s head, to check the anesthetic. “Pauline, see to the other patients. We’ll get that ball out of the legionnaire's thigh next.”“Yes, doctor,” the nurse replies, casting a heavy lidded glance at Marcel as she exits the surgery.Dr. Bruzzi watches Marcel’s suturing vigilantly. “The Rubieras’ youngest daughter – Angelique, isn’t it? Was she injured? How did she escape?”[/sblock]</blockquote>

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